Spring Loves the Swallows
by PHYSCHOCHIC3
Summary: John knows its stupid to think Sherlock will leave him after they're married, but he can't help it.


**WRITTEN AFTER WATCHING THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE THIRD SEASON (WHICH I'M SUPER DISAPPOINTED IN) SO, ENJOY.**

**Summary: John knows its stupid to think Sherlock will leave him after they're married, but he can't help it.**

(I Love You More Than) Spring Loves the Swallows-by PS

John knows its stupid to think that Sherlock will leave him after they're married, but he can't help it.

Two years ago the man had vanished, presumably died, and John had had to live with himself, and the guilt, for what felt like forever.

But, then Sherlock came back, reappeared one day, stepping back into his life and changing things up completely. Things could never be the same again.

He had finally confessed his true feelings to Sherlock while they were in the middle of a terrorist crossfire, then, he and the man finally got together; Greg and Mrs. Hudson giving them sly smirks and congratulatory pats on the back. It was wonderful.

Now, sitting in the back of a limousine that had been provided by Mycroft, John fiddled with his wedding ring, the simple band new to his usually exposed skin, making a weight hang there that was not altogether unpleasant.

"You don't have to be nervous." The voice of his husband said from the other side of the long leather seats.

John startled, looking over at his spouse, "What are you talking about?"

Wrong thing to say. Now Sherlock was bound to show off his abilities and give John a headache that would last all evening.

Sherlock gave an eye roll, his head still turned to look out of the window, "oh please John, don't insult me. You're twisting your ring back and forth, indicating that you are nervous; your leg is jiggling back and forth every few seconds, and your lips are twitching with nerves. I can recognize a nervous man when I see one."

John frowned, narrowing his eyes, "yet, you have to wonder why I'm nervous."

Sherlock glanced at him, cat-like eyes sharp and ever-knowing, "of course not. You're afraid I'll leave again, which is highly unlikely seeing as I finally have you as my own and intend to stay by your side."

John blinked, curious, "how did you know…?"

Sherlock stared at him full on now, hands pressed into the leather at his sides, "simple. I noticed that you seemed slightly hung over when you met me at the alter earlier today, and I presumed that you had been drinking the night before our wedding in fear that I would leave. You do have a tendency to drink when you're anxious sometimes. Plus, you seemed to keep your eyes on me the whole time during the reception, and tensed when I went away from you to talk to Mummy. Am I wrong?"

John took a quick breath, reveling in the fact that Sherlock did, as a matter of fact, possibly know everything. "Why do you always seem to know what's wrong with me?"

"Because I pay attention," Sherlock replied easily, then, softer, "and, I care."

John blinked at that, mouth slack as he just stared, "that's…" He couldn't think of anything to say, but that didn't matter as Sherlock just turned to stare at him, eyes unfathomable for what seemed like hours before the crackle of the limo's com sounded.

"Pardon Mr. Holmes," the driver's voice called out statically, "but we've arrived at 221 B Baker Street, as requested."

Sherlock broke away from their eye contact and went to open the door, sliding out fluidly while holding it for John, allowing him to slip out slowly before closing the door firmly.

"Thank you Olsen," he said to the driver, knocking a hand on the side of the limo before whirling on his heel and marching up to the door of 221 John following behind him.

Sherlock opened the door for them, and led the way up the stairs to their flat, the entire place quiet for once, Mrs. Hudson staying out late to the end of the reception, then traveling to see her sister for the rest of the week.

John watched as Sherlock flopped into his usual chair, long legs folding up over the side of the arm and leaning his head back, eyes closed.

John looked at him for a moment before he started walking down the hall, trying to get to his room.

Sherlock's voice trailed after him, "where are you going?"

John rolled his eyes, "just going to change clothes. This suit is awfully stuffy, and you know I look horrible in black."

"No you don't."

John jumped, spinning around quickly, glaring at Sherlock, who was now extremely close.

"Don't do that!" He commanded, eyes narrowed.

Sherlock stared down at him impassively, "you look fine in black. Besides, you won't need any clothes at all for what I plan to do with you."

John blinked, surprised at the words, "huh?"

Sherlock continued to stare, "you wanted us to wait until things were 'properly done,' or were permanent. Well, now they are. And I think we can finally continue on with our sexual arrangements."

It was true, John had wanted to wait until they were official, wanted to make sure that Sherlock wouldn't break his heart anymore than he already had once before. And, though he didn't want to admit it, sex made things complicated, and Sherlock was complicated enough on his own already.

Now, Sherlock backed away a step, obviously bothered by John's silence and taking it as refusal, "I see."

John hastened to correct the mistake, "No, no! I do want you, I was just…how should we do it?"

Sherlock's eyes lit up, and he stepped forward again, holding out a large hand and cupping John's cheek, leaning in and capturing his lips, John closing his eyes while Sherlock kept his own open.

John opened his mouth after a few chaste kisses, letting Sherlock envelope his mouth with a soft tongue, the muscle lapping at his palate and taking in the groove of his gums. Exploring him, completely, as though he didn't already have John memorized.

After a few more moments of this Sherlock pulled back, eyes dark and hungry, "I want you," he growled out, sending a shudder down John's spine, "I want you spread out on my bed, and all over the flat. I want you to be mine, and mine alone forever."

John shivered, reaching up to bury one hand in Sherlock's dense curls, pulling him down for another close mouthed kiss before pulling back, breathless, "you can have all of that," he murmured, "I'm yours. All yours, for eternity."

Sherlock gave him a quick peck on the lips, "I know," he said back, breath flustering across John's swollen lips, "and I'm yours."

John gave a quick grin, "you sick weirdo."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose right back, "demented doctor."

John laughed, panting out the noise as he pressed himself against his husband, winding their fingers together so that their wedding rings clinked together.

"I love you," he mouthed against Sherlock's mouth, running the sharp edge of his teeth across the soft skin for a moment.

He felt Sherlock grin against him, "I love you too," the detective said back, tugging him close, "more than the spring loves the swallows."

John giggled, thinking of how sappy that sounded, and how romantic, thinking that it was something that Sherlock would never say. He had never been more wrong in his life…

**SHORT, I KNOW. BUT, I HOPE YOU LIKED IT. DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! THANKS FOR READING!**


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